Carnival of the Soul

by Cebelius

  Prada? he thought.

  'Yes, Husband?'

  Would you like to help me melt my gorgon's brain?

  Prada examined his idea and her sense of smug anticipation was the only reply he needed.

  "If you two are quite done playing with that, I would very much like Euryale to put it to use," Terry said, grinning as he reached out, spreading his fingers. Euryale slipped her brazen claws between them, and shifted forward on him.

  She put her other claw on his chest and her eyes drifted closed as she ground her hips against his with his shaft trapped between them.

  "Mmmph. Euryale, as good as that feels, I really want to be inside you," Terry murmured. "Shy? Would you put me in?"

  Shy had settled back to watch, but her eyes glimmered lustily as she smiled, obviously pleased to be so intimately included. She leaned forward, reaching between the gorgon's legs as Euryale shifted up a bit, tilting her head toward the dryad. They kissed, Shy pressed him up between Euryale's swollen, glistening lips, and he groaned as she sank down on him.

  Her liquid heat was snug and she was already pulsing inside as her kiss with Shy broke. Euryale collapsed onto his chest, panting as she said, "It's not fair that you do this to me ... Dammit! I want it to last!"

  Terry chuckled warmly, wrapping her up and holding her close. He let her adjust to him as he murmured, "It's all right, love. We have all night. You've met Prada, but now I'd like to share her with you. Are you willing?"

  Her snakes writhed around his face as she gazed down at him, her expression caught between bliss and worry as she said, "Only after. After this ... I want the first one to be all you."

  He nodded his understanding and traced the base of her wings with his hands, then lowered them to cup her ass. She pressed her chest to his and laid on him, panting quietly as he squeezed her, moved her gently atop him.

  Knowing by now how sensitive Euryale was to touch, any touch, he kept it slow and easy, letting her savor the sensations she had been so long without. As he moved gently within her, he felt her tears on his chest. She whimpered and clutched his shoulders without looking at him as she said, "I ... Master I need you. I need you so much. You're my reason ... my one purpose. With you inside me, only then, I feel complete."

  He kissed her snakes, squeezed her, and spoke soft, certain words. He had come to understand her since bringing her out of Monsoon, and knew now what she needed to hear.

  "You will always have a place with me. I am grateful to you. Grateful for you. I know that you have suffered more than I could possibly understand, but that pain brought you to me, so no matter what happens, I accept you. I love you. Euryale ... you're mine."

  As he spoke, she tightened on him, and when he claimed her, Euryale came with a rising wail that stopped just short of being a sonic assault. Her brazen claws drew blood from his shoulders as she arched up, black wings spread as her snakes writhed around her head, her expression one of incomparable ecstasy.

  And then she passed out.

  Terry caught her as she went limp on him, and with a bemused expression he glanced at Shy and said, "Help me handle her wings, yeah?"

  Shy was shaking with quiet mirth as — between the two of them — they managed to get Euryale settled to one side on the bed Terry had been given.

  Because she was on his far side, Shy wound up replacing Euryale atop him and shifted her hips, taking his still rigid length inside and sitting up with her hands on his stomach, her head tilted as she gazed fondly down at him. Her luminous green eyes seemed to enchant him, and he stared into them as long as she let him before she leaned forward, pillowing her chest on his as she said, "You were good when I met you, Tee ... but I think that's a first."

  Grinning, he shrugged and said, "Not the sort of thing you plan for. I'll take it though. She deserves every bit of joy I can give her."

  His expression barely had time to falter as he thought of everything she'd been through before he felt Shy's touch on his cheek. She brought his attention back to her as she shook her head slightly and said, "No. Don't dwell in the past, yours, hers, or anyone's."

  She shifted her hips over him in a slow, sensual roll. "Live in the present, Tee. That's where I am."

  As he felt Prada's growing impatience and frustration in the back of his mind, he smiled winsomely up at Shy and said, "Speaking of living in the present ... would you be willing to help me with something?"

  "Mmm, I'm not in a position to refuse you very much," she murmured, rolling her hips over his. "What do you need?"

  His smile widened as he slid hands down her sides, loving the way her hips flared out under his fingertips. "Prada has been frustrated at least twice today, and if I don't turn her loose on someone she's threatened to hang me up by my shorts."

  Shy's eyebrows shot up, and she sounded a bit bemused as she asked, "'Turn her loose?'"

  Prada flowed around his throat from both sides, half-formed hands touching and then enfolding Shy's neck and shoulders. As Shy shuddered and her breath left her in a rush, Prada said, "Trust me, lover ... by the time I am done with you, Euryale won't be alone."

  "Mph! Ooh what are y-you doingg!" Shy gasped as more and more of Prada flowed over her, engulfing not only Terry, but Shy as she lay atop him.

  Since he was just as much under attack as Shy was at this point, Terry couldn't reply in any coherent way.

  "Tee? Teeee! Ooh, fffuck!"

  Terry closed his eyes as Prada's substance engulfed his head, and concentrated on Shy. He could feel her with him, and mentally pulled her to him, wrapping her up in his sense of self. Having spent so much time fused with Prada, he was a bit more resistant to the swell of physical sensation. He did not want to keep Shy from that tide of bliss, only to shelter her enough to allow her to enjoy it.

  It's all right, Shy. Prada just doesn't respect limits. I am here.

  'How ... do you withstand this?' Shy asked, her voice even in his mind pleasure-strained and desperate. 'It's overwhelming!'

  The short answer is, I don't. When she did this to me on our wedding night she knocked me out. I just wanted to reassure you. Prada loves me, and would never harm either of us. It's in her wedding contract.

  They could both feel Prada invading every nerve, sparking pleasure far beyond any mortal capacity. Even Terry's resistance began to crumble, and he kissed Shy, both physically and spiritually, and asked, Shall we go?

  'Will ... normal sex ever be satisfying after this?' she asked, pleasure drunk but with more than a trace of fear in the question.

  Yes, Shy. You have my word. Thank you for indulging her with me ... she needs this. Of us all, she has both the greatest capacity for pleasure, and the least ability to get it for herself. It's her nature; we're just along for the ride.

  With that thought, Terry let Shy go, and her presence in his mind dissolved into pure orgiastic bliss.

  Prada's thoughts had just a trace of petulance. 'I am not sure I like the fact you can resist me even this long, Husband. When did you acquire this sort of will?'

  For the sake of those I love, I can do just about anything, he thought warmly. Even let myself go.

  And with that, he gave himself to his sanguine devil wife. She took every thought, every memory, every worry. She took his past and his present and all his future, and lovingly bathed him in an endless sea of pleasure.

  6

  Vlad the Dreamer

  Mila knelt near the small stove in the center of the yurt, waiting for her tea to finish steeping. She had not slept last night, and her eyes were heavy-lidded with fatigue. She felt queazy, and her muzzle was throbbing. She probably wouldn't have slept even if Euryale's scream hadn't raised an alarm that she and Yuri had to spend the better part of an hour in the middle of the night to settle. The fact that the entire yurt was now redolent of sex hadn't helped either, and Yuri had told her in no uncertain terms that he would be finding other accommodations, leaving her with a decision to make.

  Do I stay with Terry, now that I ...

 
; The thought died because though she was bound to him, she really didn't know what they were. She liked him. No. More than liked. But she didn't know if she could leave her brother. They had been together through all of this, and it didn't feel right leaving him alone.

  Feeling that she'd waited long enough, she picked up the strainer and set it aside, then sipped the tea. It's hot warmth eased its way down her throat and made her feel better, but only a little.

  It would be easier if Terry could just ... keep it in his pants when we are all in the same place. It is uncivilized.

  She glared at the curtain that hid him, her ears flattening to either side as frustration welled within her. She knew it wasn't entirely his fault. Several of his women simply had no decorum.

  At all.

  As she sipped her tea, another of the hangings was thrust aside and Asturial stepped into the common area, yawning hugely as she ran her short, thick black claws through her mass of red hair, floofing it in an apparent attempt to even out a bad case of bedhead. She had forgone her usual practical clothing for a diaphanous blue silk dress with a plunging neckline that was gathered at her hips by a belt of ornately engraved golden plates featuring alternating rubies and sapphires in their centers. A heavy necklace of gold and platinum featuring a glimmering ruby nestled in her cleavage and, along with a matching diadem, completed her dress. She also wore a pair of platinum bracelets that set off her ruby scales.

  She certainly didn't miss the chance to restore some of her wealth from the Labyrinth, Mila thought, suppressing a smile.

  Dragons and their hoards.

  The dragon proxy paused as she caught sight of Mila, and her golden eyes flickered from the tiger woman to the curtain and back before she said, "For someone newly bonded, you look unduly troubled."

  Mila's eyes flickered from Asturial to Terry's curtain, then back. Asturial watched her curiously until she admitted, "I am not feeling well. My relationship with Terry troubles me also. Last night was not in any way good."

  "No, I imagine it wasn't," Asturial replied with a faint smile. She glanced at the curtain again and her nostrils flared. Her expression grew annoyed as she said, "At least you got yours. Being the only female in the vicinity left sexually frustrated is not to my taste. Just because I am accustomed to a life without much sensual pleasure does not mean I am particularly content to be celibate now. I may be a dragon, but even my patience has limits."

  "Why not just go to him?" Mila asked, then blinked as she realized what she'd just said.

  Asturial seemed caught by surprise as well, then rested a hand on one cocked hip as she quirked an eyebrow at Mila. She then pressed a finger to her lips and moved to the curtain. She shifted it and looked inside, then closed it again and tilted her head toward the exit.

  Once the two were outside and walking, Asturial said, "Your recent and my current situations bear fundamental differences, Mila. He likes you. He tolerates me. We made our peace, but I will have to wait for him to come to me of his own accord."

  Mila glanced around as she sipped her tea and thought on what Asturial said, both hands wrapped around the cup. Her wrists pained her, and just holding the cup felt somehow unnatural.

  It was just past dawn, and the tauren had been active since the pre-dawn light. On the Steppes, there was precious little wood to burn. Scat piles were dried and used as fuel, but even that was typically stored for the winter months, so outside carnivals and celebrations, there was little to no activity after dark. The tauren were an active, industrious people, and the carnival was filled with the sound of banter, trade, children playing. It had been a long time since she had heard these sounds, and while not part of their race, she and her brother had often come to carnivals to trade and talk.

  Now though, she looked for ears swiveled their way. She looked for glancing eyes or turning heads. While the dragon proxy seemed to be getting her fair share of stares, it didn't seem to Mila that anyone was paying any particular attention to their talk.

  "I think you should go to Shy Willow," she said at last. "She was his first, and seems to have good relationships with all of his girls. If you go to her, she will intercede for you."

  Asturial's brow furrowed as she pondered that, then sucked her teeth and said, "The idea that I should have to rely on Shy as though she were some sort of sexual concierge does not please me. Still, after last night, perhaps that would be best. I tried a more active approach when I first met Terrence, and that did not go well for me."

  Mila chuffed and sipped her tea, having no kind answer to that. Instead, she let the ugly truth stand.

  "Mila Kolenko!"

  The deep, masculine voice made her eyes widen and Mila turned reflexively as her fingers tightened around her cup. The clay it was made from shattered, spattering hot tea all over. She yowled in surprise and shook her hands, which only pained her further as her wrists felt like the motion would break them.

  She had not brought her staff with her on what was to be a simple walk around the camp. Leaving it was a bad habit she'd picked up during the lax week around the mansion. It had not been a conscious decision, but the oversight was one she now had cause to regret as she confirmed the owner of the voice to be whom she feared.

  Asturial quirked a brow, then turned slowly to face the oncoming tiger man.

  He was a full head taller than either of them and broader. His body was heavy with muscle and a pair of saber-like teeth depended from his upper jaw. His eyes were blue and glimmered in the early morning light as he strode toward them.

  He was dressed in animal hides and skins, with a motley assortment of tokens, charms, and fetishes dangling everywhere. His staff was gnarled and twisted, branching into a Y shape at the top that supported a spider's web, complete with spider. It was sleek and deadly looking, with red legs and a principally black body, though the thorax had what looked like a drop of blood centered in the chiton, and it sat upon the web with its legs resting all along the wood.

  "Who is this?" Asturial said with a sniff of disdain. "I do not like his presumption."

  "He is Vlad the Dreamer. He is the shaman of our tribe," Mila muttered under her breath. "I have no idea what he is doing here though! He should be a hundred miles away!"

  The saber-toothed tiger's smile was broad and threatening, though his voice sounded friendly enough as he boomed, "So long gone that were it not for the spirits I would have thought you dead."

  His smile broadened even more, and he tilted his head down to look appraisingly at her as he said, "You get more beautiful every time I see you. Truly, Finnen did not deserve your attentions. I should have taken you away from him much sooner."

  Vlad's words were like ice poured into Mila's veins, and she barely heard the shaman ask, "Where is your brother? I learned in dreams that he was successful."

  "Successful!"

  Mila spat the word. "You sent us out to die!"

  "I did no such thing," Vlad said, dismissing her accusation and tone with an airy wave of his hand. "The spirits give to me what is best for my people, and I pass their wisdom on. That is all that is given to me to do. I have never sent anyone anywhere. I simply speak the truths given to me. The wise heed and obey. Your brother should have obeyed sooner than he did. It would have spared much pain."

  Mila rowled deep in her throat, and her claws slid out as all the frustration of the past two years — culminating with the realization in Monsoon that they had been sent on a futile quest — boiled to the surface.

  "Kill the Madsee!?" Mila screeched. "One of two who absolutely cannot be slain! You have lost the privilege of interpreting any spiritual word for me! Be thankful my brother is not here, or you would already be in a fight for your life! Oooh, I never thought I would see the day when you were not surrounded by your lickspittle servants! I suggest you flee, charlatan!"

  Vlad's smile only broadened as he leaned back and belly-laughed, then said, "Ooh, Mila. Mila! So innocent. Is that what Yuri told you? Were those his exact words? Do not seek to test my
mettle, child. You will find I want neither servants nor power in any contest with the likes of you."

  "A contest with her involves me as well, shaman. Do not be so certain of victory," Asturial warned.

  For the first time, the shaman turned his heavy head to gaze at the dragon proxy, and his smile faded a bit as he said, "Ah, bereft. A wayward eldritch clinging to the shreds of her vanquished dignity. Your coming was foretold, and I am prepared for you as well. A shaman is always prepared. Again, I say it, and do not force me to say it thrice, I will want neither servants nor power in any contest."

  Turning his attention back to Mila he said, "Now that the empty threats are through, where is your brother?"

  "Go to hell!" Mila spat. "You will see him at home, but not here! I will not permit it! I will not allow you to speak to him until he is ready!"

  "He will never be ready. He was always a child, playing at man's games," Vlad replied, a touch of regret in his tone. "Perhaps that is why the spirits sent him so far from home. A man should not leave this world having never tasted of success. However, I can see that you also are not ready, so I will allow you to be childish awhile longer. You will inform Yuri of me, and then you will both follow in my footsteps as you have always done. We will speak again when the time is right."

  The saber-toothed shaman's smile seemed to hide dire secrets as he glanced from Mila to Asturial and back, then turned and walked away.

  "I do not like that man," Asturial said, folding her arms across her chest.

  "No one likes that man," Mila rowled. "No one loves him either. He exists in a world where there is only fear, rage, respect ... and obedience."

  "How did he come into the favor of Old Second-Best?"

  Mila glanced up, sudden fear in her eyes as she hissed, "Not here! Say nothing of her! Not even hints! We are too close!"

  Asturial nodded and said, "Very well. In this matter I will defer to your wisdom ... and in the other matter too, I think. Shall we go talk to her?"

  "Shy? Now?"